2011-06-15 - Unexpected Artistry
It's in the afternoon, and the park is full of people...lots of good subjects for a sketch artist. And a pretty big (if not always attentive) audience for a singer...which the park appears to have today. A child of about 12 years is walking slowly alongside one of the paths, watching people in their park activities, birds flitting about the air, and other small animals climbing trees and running along the ground. While ey watches, ey sings--softly, but very beautifully and with every note clear. The song is wordless, just a quiet melody that speaks of peace and contentment and a quiet day just like this. On a pretty day like this, it is hard to walk far in the Park without hearing someone playing music or finding a perfect bench to sit on and draw. Steve Rogers has found the latter. He is seated on a bench with his leg crossed over the other to support his sketch pad. His hands move in quick, light strokes along the paper as he watches various people moving through the park. He glances towards the sound of the singing and pauses in his drawing as he listens for a moment. Rogers isn't the only one watching...the child seems to attract more than a little bit of attention, and no surprise. That voice is easily professional level, and seems to have a style more classical than modern. Ey doesn't seem to even realize people are watching, though, or if ey does, ey doesn't care...just continuing to sing, as the song rises and falls gently, perfectly suiting the sort of relaxed day and the child's slow stroll, like ey was composing eir own soundtrack as ey went through life. Slowly, the song finally comes to a close, drifting off quietly as the last few notes just seem to fade away. It's a proper ending, but it still feels like the song, somewhere, might be continuing on. Steve pauses for a few moments as if waiting for the child to continue, but when it appears ey has ended he puts the pencil down on his pad. He brings his hands together in a soft applaud. Others around him do as well. Many have paused what they were doing and watched Elizraim sing. "Beautiful," Steve says with a smile. And Elizraim may not have been as unaware of things as it appears, as in response to the applause ey smiles, and gives a formal bow--the sort you might see at a concert or some other kind of stage show, at the conclusion of a performance. "My thanks," ey says...ey has an accent, though ey is still easy enough to understand. Sounds maybe Welsh, perhaps, and with a cultured tone. "Glad am I that you have enjoyed my song." An audience is an audience, after all. "You appear so young for having such a voice, Miss," Steve says as he relaxes against his bench. "I suppose you were lucky to have such a gift." He smiles and glances from Elizraim to his sketch pad. "Mind if I sketch you for the moment?" Elizraim gives a light laugh, walking over closer to Steve. "A gift is nothing without training," ey says, smiling. "I practice every day." Ey blinks, looking at the pad, then at the Big Man holding it, and looks amused. "If I am young for my voice, you are rather...tougher than I should expect for an artist." Ey considers, for a few moments, and then gives a light shrug. "I suppose that I shall allow it. I have no place to be." "I like to be well rounded," Steve says with a smile. "Can't be all muscle and glory right? Besides, I'm not really that good an artist. Just enough to get by. Make a few bucks here and there. When I am lucky, I can even make a difference and help the police out from time time to time." He offers a hand. "Steve Rogers is my name." "Admirable," Elizraim says, nodding. "It is good to see a love for the arts in so unexpected a place...and if it is something you enjoy, it hardly matters whether you are a master." Ey takes the hand, shaking it. "I am pleased to meet you, Steve Rogers. I am Eli." "Pleasure to meet you. Please, sit down," Steve says as he offers a spot on the bench. He picks up his sketch pencil again and begins to do quick marks on the paper. "So, Eli, where are you from? New York City seems to be the ultimate melting pot bringing everyone from every where here at some point." Elizraim nods, and takes a seat on the bench, watching Steve work with clear interest. It has been quite a while since I have had a portrait done...it is nostalgic, ey thinks. "I am from here, now...I do not care to discuss where I came from." Ey looks just a bit uncomfortable. "I was not...happy, before coming here." Steve nods and says softly, "I understand. I have seen some 'not happy' places before. It is scary what people can do at times. Even harder to believe when you look around at a day like today in the peace that is Central Park. I hope you are finding the city more to your liking then." Elizraim nods. "So far, yes...it is a little busy, but I have managed to find peace. Especially in places like this." Ey smiles, looking comfortable again. "I have come to like this place. When the noise and activity get to be too much, I come here. It is inspirational, at times." Steve bites his lower lip slightly as he concentrates on the sketch. His eyes glance from Eli to the paper and back again as the picture begins to take shape. He picks up his eraser to get rid of a few stray marks as he works. "The city can be quite busy. It is the city that never sleeps after all. I love having the Park as an oasis of sorts. It has gotten busier though since I was last in the city." "The city that never sleeps?" Elizraim repeats, thoughtfully. "I see. Because there is always something happening...is that right?" For eir own part, ey is doing eir best to remain pretty still to make Steve's job easier. One gets the feeling this isn't the first time ey has sat for such a thing, and that ey doesn't really mind the process at all. "Does it bother you as well, then? I often find it exhausting." "That's right," Steve nods almost nonchalantly as he is more focused on the sketch then physically answering the question. "One of the many nicknames for the city. It doesn't bother me really. You sort of get used to it after a while, and really, the sound of traffic and music is a great deal better than artillery shells and rifle shots." Elizraim blinks, clearly a bit confused for a few moments, and then gives a soft 'oh.' "You are a war...um...you are a soldier, then?" ey asks. "I am glad to say that I have not heard artillery or rifles, and I hope I never shall. They seem like terrible things." Steve mmmm hmmms and again gives a half nod. "Yes. For me, it seems like only last week I was in the middle of it. Still feel it." He looks up at em with a faraway look in his eyes. "Sort of like that feeling you get when you have been in running water for hours and then when you get out you can still feel the water moving against you." He pauses for a moment and then shakes his head. "But you don't want to hear about that. Lets discuss something better." Elizraim remains quiet for a few moments, considering. "You are pained by these things...my apologies. I did not mean to hurt you. If it would help to share, I shall listen, yet if you do not wish to speak of it, I shall not force you." Steve gives a slight shrug and shakes his head. "Not yet. I suppose I will at some point, but probably with someone that has heard artillery and rifle shots. Again, I apologize to you for ruining such a day as this." He puts a smile back on his face as he continues to sketch. "Almost done here. I hope it does you justice." Elizraim gives a light laugh. "Fear not...you have ruined nothing. You have only provided a little more to think about, as you have given me something interesting to watch. I am curious, however...how did you discover your love of art?" "It was just something I did with down time during the war," Steve says with a shrug. "I couldn't really carry music with me, and the lending library couldn't really reach me where I was. So I had a pad of paper and a pencil. I began to sketch and got good enough that now I can sell a few illustrations to local magazines and earn a few dollars. Sort of fell into it, I guess." Elizraim nods slightly. "At times we find the best things by happy accident," ey says. "And the arts seem to seize hold and never let go. I am pleased that you were able to find something you enjoyed, and that you are finding some success." "That is probably giving it too much credit," Steve says with a soft laugh. "How about you? Has your singing helped you in the city or is that just something you do to help express yourself when you are out in the park?" "Oh, it has helped, somewhat," Elizraim says. "Although it has also brought me some attention I do not desire, from the sort of vermin who would like to use me for their own profit. Yet there are many who simply enjoy my song, such as those at the L'esprit." Ey is a bit of a local celebrity at that karaoke bar, and there are a lot of rumors about the child with the stellar voice (and the occasionally foul temper). "For now, I am content with that." Fade to black here. Elizraim ended up taking the sketch for eir room. Category:Logs